News
HMS Is Facing a Deficit. Under Trump, Some Fear It May Get Worse.
News
Cambridge Police Respond to Three Armed Robberies Over Holiday Weekend
News
What’s Next for Harvard’s Legacy of Slavery Initiative?
News
MassDOT Adds Unpopular Train Layover to Allston I-90 Project in Sudden Reversal
News
Denied Winter Campus Housing, International Students Scramble to Find Alternative Options
Take a moment and close your eyes. Imagine a movie where an alcoholic athlete turned coach (in this case, Josh Holloway of “Lost” fame) is reeled into a rich man’s plan to put together an all-star team of (insert favorite athletic event here) and win the world championship of said sport. Turn to your friends and note the many films that come to mind. “Battle of the Year” is the essence of all these films, plus incredible breakdancing, without any plot substance.
The story unfolds in a boring, one-dimensional manner. Jason (Holloway) is a retired dancer who has also seen success as a basketball coach due to his unusual knack for fostering teamwork and morale among teammates. However, his life is in alcoholic shambles after his wife and child die in a car accident. Dante (Laz Alonso), a member of Jason’s old crew, is now a big-time entertainment CEO with a vision for the next winner of Battle of the Year, the world’s biggest breakdancing competition. After Dante convinces Jason to return to his roots and train a new team, the story takes off in a series of tedious problems and plot twists.
As the team trains with Jason for a chance at breakdancing glory, each main character on the team is revealed to have beef with another team member. Within badly acted five-minute segments, each two feuding members work out their problems through various monotonous conversations. During these sequences, the acting is vaguely reminiscent of the free intro session of an improv class before the talentless ones have given up and left. One scene in particular features a supporting character standing stiffly with his arms at his side in the midst of his team and yelling in a monotone voice for almost two minutes. His speech, along with his half-hearted flipping of a chair to punctuate his words, is typical of these characters, great dancers with the apparent emotional capacity of five-year-olds.
“Battle of the Year” also takes sponsorship pandering to brand new heights. From an opening scene in which Josh Peck’s character Franklyn expresses his love for the new Sony Tablet, to an average of one Braun ad per scene, to a new Chris Brown single playing over the end credits, “Battle” continuously and unabashedly references its sponsors throughout the film—the movie has more ads in it than Times Square. Regardless of the movie’s attempts at making the most obvious moments of ad placement self-aware and humorous, the gratuitous product placement in “Battle of the Year” detract away from the experience.
Braun is the sponsor of the real-life event Battle of the Year, and it’s understandable, if not excusable, that they advertise themselves so aggressively. On the positive side, everything to do with the Battle of the Year competition itself is spot on throughout the movie. The dancers take choreographed dance sequences to a whole new level as they slide, flip, and spin around the stage with impressive grace and athleticism. The film is at its most enjoyable in the moments when the 3D cameras close in on groups of ten people dancing in tandem, or track a single dancer’s impressive head spin. At certain strategic points, time slows down à la “300,” allowing a heightened appreciation of an especially skillful movement. As bad as the movie’s acting and plot are, the dancing itself is highly enjoyable for its artistry and originality. Each national team has a clear style and technique, and the team members’ personalities shine through much more on the dance floor than in the locker room.
“Battle of the Year” is either a terrible attempt at portraying hip-hop and breaking culture or a self-indulgent sports movie cliché fest, but it never seems to decide which film to be. Is “Battle” suggesting that members of the hip-hop community are this simple and one-dimensional, or is this entire thing a farce with good dancing? Who thought it was a good idea to cast Holloway as a retired break dancer? Why is Josh Peck telling us that Jews can’t dance? Was that men’s razor company in the last scene “Braun” or “Baum?” In between some great dancing, “Battle of the Year” will leave you struggling with all these questions and more.
Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.